


Get Physical

by gundamoocow



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Academia, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Identity Porn, M/M, Physics, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 01:02:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16107521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gundamoocow/pseuds/gundamoocow
Summary: Armitage Hux is a hotshot young theoretical physicist who landed a professorship at the age of 30. He's clever, snarky, and arrogant, and as a result friendless amongst his colleagues. Enter Kylo Ren, a young no-name experimentalist who not only shows up late to Hux's plenary talk at a prestigious conference, but has the gall to question his methods. To make matters worse, Ren won't leave Hux alone. Why does Hux never run into Ben Solo at a conference, the man whose work helped form the backbone of Hux's career?





	Get Physical

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is it! I finally wrote my "special interest" AU. I hope anyone in academia appreciates this, and on the off-chance that you are also a physicist, know that this is the one and only time I've used the _other_ archive for fic research purposes.
> 
> There is a glossary in the end notes.
> 
> This work was done as part of the [Kylux Big Bang](http://kyluxbigbang.tumblr.com/), and there is wonderful art to go along with it by [kyloknightofhux](http://kyloknightofhux.tumblr.com/)! The main art piece is [here](http://kyloknightofhux.tumblr.com/post/178558341661/kylux-mini-bang-piece-for-get-physical-by), and an aesthetics post is [here](http://kyloknightofhux.tumblr.com/post/178558478651/kylux-mini-bang-companion-aesthetic-post-for-get) (though you may want to read the fic first).

Hux folds his hands behind his back and looks out at the audience while the computer tech connects his laptop to the projector. There are over 800 people watching him, according to the conference organisers. Bright lights and a big stage are a far cry from a typical university lecture theater. It’s almost as if he is a celebrity, a guest of honour on a grand platform.

An assistant approaches him with a microphone to clip onto his neatly pressed shirt. When the microphone is attached and the computer tech finishes, Hux glances at the big screen to check that his title slide is displayed correctly.

“ _First Order Phase Transitions in Topological Quantum Computers_ ,” the title reads clearly in Arial font. His name is below, written in italics, and the logo for Arkanis University is displayed in the lower right-hand corner. With the laptop remote in Hux’s hand and everything in order, he nods to the session chair.

“Welcome back, everybody. I’m Dopheld Mitaka and I will chair this afternoon’s _hot topics_ session.” Mitaka sounds nervous, but then Mitaka has always sounded nervous, regardless of the circumstances. “Our first speaker is Armitage Hux from Arkanis University.”

“Thank you,” Hux says, hearing his own voice clearly over the excellent sound system in the auditorium. He stands at the lectern, looking out at all the pairs of eyes on him. A good number of people watching him are his rivals, both former and present. However, it is _Hux_ who is on stage at the most prestigious conference in their field, not _them_. He smiles victoriously, and then begins his talk.

His presentation is crisp and well-rehearsed. He begins, as always, with the motivation of his work. Quantum computing is a holy grail of sorts. Regardless of which physical implementation ultimately wins, an appropriate theoretical framework is essential. Hux’s methods are broadly applicable, and he pushes this point before moving into the nuts and bolts of his theory. Of course, most of what he describes is already in the _Nature_ paper that landed him the invitation to this conference. The point is not to disseminate new information; the point is to showcase.

Just as Hux begins to describe his formalism, one of the auditorium doors swings open hard enough to hit the wall. The loud bang startles Hux out of his laser focus. He stutters to a standstill as a looming figure drags a suitcase with a squeaking wheel all the way from the back of the auditorium to the front row, skipping all the occupied seats. The man looks almost like a vagrant; long, unwashed hair, faded black shirt with some aggressive lettering, torn black jeans, scuffed boots. The badge hanging around his neck is the only indication that he actually belongs here. Hux scowls at him for the interruption.

The show must go on, so Hux tries to ignore the latecomer, until he is distracted again two slides later when the man noisily unzips his backpack and pulls out a beat-up laptop. Hux wants to yell at him to sit at the back if he’s not going to pay attention. This is supposed to be Hux’s moment of triumph, a chance to finally gloat to all the people who had caused him grief. Instead, his mood is sour by the time he reaches his final slide. The audience’s applause is not enough to lift his mood.

“Are there any questions?” Mitaka asks.

Two raise their hands. Even seasoned scientists are wary of asking questions in such a large crowd. Mitaka points to a well-dressed young woman sitting in an aisle seat towards the middle of the theater. A runner hands her a microphone. She asked a couple of good questions in the previous session.

“Thank you,” she says. “Is this method applicable to solid state systems?” She elaborates on this, and sensibly so. In his talk, Hux had used a simplified example, so he gives a more detailed answer in the affirmative.

He finishes with, “Good question,” and a smile. Giving credit where it is due has always been his policy.

“We have time for one more question,” Mitaka says with an upward inflection, as if he is asking a question instead of delivering a statement.

The irritating man in the front row looks up from his laptop and raises his hand. Hux frowns.

“Here in the front,” Mitaka says.

“How does your method deal with decoherence?”

Hux clenches his jaw as a prickle of rage bubbles through him. This was in his talk, and explaining something to someone who was not paying attention wastes everybody’s time. “There is a dissipative term,” Hux says flatly. “A topologically robust system will--”

“That’s an over-simplification,” the man cuts him off. “A real system has other loss mechanisms.”

“Are you questioning my methods?” Hux snaps. His paper was published in _Nature_ , for crying out loud, after extensive peer review.

“I’m saying they’re not broadly applicable.”

“I’m afraid we have to stop!” Mitaka yelps into his microphone. “Please continue this discussion during the break!”

Hux slams his laptop closed, yanks the HDMI cable out, and storms off the stage. How dare he! _How dare he!_ Who does that man he think he is?

There is absolutely no way that Hux will be able to focus on the next talk, so he walks straight out of the auditorium. There are sofas on the mezzanine level outside and Hux sits in one, closes his eyes, and rubs his temples.

He is a tenured professor, one of the youngest at his university. He has a long series of academic achievements and awards. His PhD had been awarded with distinction. Some arsehole should _not_ be able to shake him up like this. He leans back on the sofa and doesn’t move until he hears people starting to exit the theater, signalling the end of the session. Not wanting to be seen sitting around, he quickly gets up and goes downstairs to the exhibition area, where he mills about a drinks a coffee while he watches PhD students walk from vendor table to vendor table, trying to collect as many free pens and pads of paper as possible.

The poster session begins on the other end of the exhibition floor, so Hux wanders over. He’s not gunning for a fight, but at the first sight of a poster on quantum algorithms, he zeroes in like a predator. The PhD student standing in front of the poster smiles, not comprehending his peril until Hux is deep into his interrogation. Hux pushes. He questions every little detail in the poster until the student stumbles, and continues pressing through the student’s flustered half-explanations until he is completely eviscerated. At that point, Hux just walks away. He does this to two more students, and only then does he feel like some of his earlier steam has blown off. With his mood slightly improved, Hux decides to call it a day.

Outside of the air-conditioned conference center, it’s hot. Hux had expected this in Barcelona in the middle of summer, but almost his entire wardrobe is composed of slacks and button-up long-sleeved shirts. During the short walk to his hotel, he sweats more than he believed was humanly possible, until he reaches the blessedly air-conditioned sanctuary of Hotel Supreme. He takes the elevator to his room, showers with cool water, then decides to wind down with a drink at the hotel bar.

He hopes for quiet, but the bar is full of conference attendees chattering. Hux avoids them all and sits at an empty seat at the bar.

“May I have a sangria, please?” he asks the bartender. Hux doesn’t speak a word of Spanish, but everyone here seems to understand English.

The bartender serves Hux his drink. Hux sips it slowly. It’s cool and refreshing, and Hux lets himself enjoy it. After not more than two sips, someone else takes the seat next to him. Hux doesn’t bother to look over until he hears a very familiar voice.

“Una cerveza, por favor.”

The hairs stand up on Hux’s neck.

“Looks like we’re staying at the same hotel,” the man says.

“Indeed,” Hux says, then takes another sip of his sangria. He glances at the man’s name badge. Kylo Ren of the Palpatine Institute. Hux knows of Sheev Palpatine, the famous Nobel Prize winner, but he has never heard of this institute. It could be completely made up, for all he knows. Some crackpot organisation that slipped past the conference program committee.

“So I’ve been thinking about how you handle dissipation,” Ren says.

“My analytics agree with the Skywalker group’s experiment with no free parameters and are supported by extensive numerics,” Hux states as calmly as he can. He has dealt with critics in the past. This is nothing new.

“Yeah, but there was a problem with that experiment.”

Hux presses his lips together. First, Ren attacks his life’s work. Now, he criticises the ground-breaking work of B. Solo _et al._ Hux knows Solo’s papers inside and out. He doesn’t need to have some charlatan “educate” him. “And you presume to be an expert, hmm?”

“Yeah,” Ren says casually.

The last of Hux’s patience fractures. “Who do you think you are?! If you have a problem, write a bloody letter to the editor of _Nature_ or write your own damn paper!” Whatever he writes will probably get sent do Hux for review, and then Hux can take him apart piece by piece.

“You know what, fuck you,” Ren spits, then downs his beer and slams the glass on the bar, making Hux jump.

And then he’s gone.

Hux breathes a sigh of relief. He can finish his sangria alone -- in peace -- then find somewhere to have dinner once the temperature outside cools a little.

 

***

 

Hux’s routine is the same whether he is travelling or not. Wake up at 6:00 am, then go for a swim. When he has no access to a pool, he does a little yoga, but he prefers the pool. The reason he chose this particular hotel, besides its proximity to the conference venue, was because of its pool facilities. He dons his red Speedos, a pair of worn shorts and a t-shirt over the top, and his slippers, and grabs a towel, goggles, and swim cap, then heads down to the indoor pool.

Predictably, it’s abandoned at this hour, which suits Hux fine. The hotel gym, visible through a set of floor-to-ceiling windows alongside the pool, is equally empty. He undresses and leaves his belongings in a cubicle, then puts on his cap and goggles, and jumps right in. The pool isn’t big, twenty-five meters, but just three lanes. Hux does a few warm-up laps, then does 20 good laps as per his usual workout. When he is finished, he swims casually for a few minutes, floats on his back, then breast strokes to the end of the pool so he can get out.

Just as he is towelling off next to the poolside cubicles, in walks none other than Ren, wearing black gym shorts and a tank top. Any hope for this to be a fresh new day, without baggage from the day before, disappears. They make eye contact and Hux scowls immediately. Ren does the same in return, then barges through the door to the gym.

For the rest of the morning, Hux tries to forget about Ren. He focuses on the talks and occasionally jots down notes. During talks he has no interest in, he answers work emails and does various administrative tasks for the course on advanced quantum mechanics he will be teaching in the autumn.

Time passes quickly, and before he knows it, the lunch break arrives. Hux goes to the same cafe he went to the day before. It’s quiet and air-conditioned, and the proprietors don’t seem to object to people working on their laptops there. Hux orders a sandwich and sits at a table in the corner with his laptop, continuing with the boring task of filling out form after form on Arkanis University’s online course management system and uploading documents.

He doesn’t notice Ren approach until he noisily dumps his laptop next to Hux’s and drags a chair across the floor to sit next to him.

“Look,” Ren says, pointing at his screen. “Here’s the original data from Skywalker’s paper.” It’s the fidelity graph that Hux knows very well. “And now this,” Ren stops to run some code, and then a new set of points appears overlaid over the original points on the graph, “is what it looks like after the systematics were refined.”

“What are you saying?” Hux asks, furrowing his brow.

“There was a frequency drift from a technical glitch,” Ren explains. “If you take that into account, the fidelities are lower.”

Hux furrows his brow. Yes, the fidelities are lower, but the result still stands.

“Your dissipation term isn’t enough to explain it. Not unless you fudge it.”

If Ren is right -- and Hux will not accept this without evidence -- then there must indeed be other mechanisms at play. “Can I see your code?” Hux asks, and Ren obliges.

Hux pores over Ren’s code, checking that he implemented Hux’s model correctly. The numerics will have to wait, but nothing in the analytics looks out of place.

“Have they published errata?” Hux asks.

Ren shakes his head. “Skywalker retired.”

Hux had heard rumours of this. In the past, both Luke Skywalker and Ben Solo were forthcoming and communicative with Hux, but their correspondence stopped suddenly some years ago, and no new results have come from the group. Similar experiments have cropped up since then, but the Skywalker group’s work was so advanced that it has taken years for others to catch up.

The lunch break passes quickly as Hux and Ren continue their discussion, which drifts to other aspects of quantum computing. They walk back to the conference center together while Ren explains his take on the latest D-Wave announcement, walk through the doors into the cool space inside, climb the stairs amongst the rest of the crowd, and enter the auditorium. Hux looks for an area of seats devoid of people and walks towards it. For some reason, Ren follows him. When Hux sits, Ren sits down next to him.

This is strange.

Hux normally sits by himself. He doesn’t need to show off how many friends he has by sitting in a big group. Yet, Ren decides to sit next to him, despite all of the empty seats available around them.

The first talk goes by without incident, but as the second speaker of the session starts setting up, Ren elbows Hux. “Ever see this guy talk?”

The title slide read _Lor San Tekka, University of Tuanul_. Hux recognises the name, but has never crossed paths with the man.

“I don’t know why he keeps getting invited to these things,” Ren whispers, leaning right into Hux’s personal space. “The guy’s got one foot in the grave and probably doesn’t have a clue about what’s in the papers he’s on.”

Hux tries to ignore Ren’s close proximity and focuses on the talk. By the second slide, Hux understands exactly what Ren means. Some -- _most_ \-- of the slides look like scanned OHPs from before PowerPoint was invented. Occasionally, a typed up slide with a recent graph surfaces, but the graph is pixelated and stretched wider than its original aspect ratio. Hux sighs and rolls his eyes, then leans towards Ren. “Anyone who does _that_ ,” Hux points to the graph, “should be taken out and shot.”

Ren snickers.

When the session ends, so does their brief camaraderie. Ren disappears during the afternoon break, and Hux is again alone. He briefly wanders through the poster area, then leaves when he sees a group of people from his department clustered together, posing for a photo. He decides to go back to his hotel until the evening’s social event, a “meet and greet” sponsored by one of the journals. Hux usually doesn’t attend social events, but perhaps Ren might be there.

 

***

 

After another shower and more time spent on tedious forms for his course, Hux heads out again. Even though it's nearly seven o'clock, the temperature has barely begun to drop. At the rate he has been perspiring, he may very well run out of clean clothing before the end of the conference.

He arrives to the meet-and-greet just as the hosts bring out the drinks. Unsurprisingly, the drinks table is row after row of Estrella Damm beer. The city is overflowing with this stuff. Hux picks up a bottle. At least it's cold.

The moment a young man in an _American Physical Society_ polo shirt approaches him, Hux realises his mistake.

“Hi!” the man says, holding out his hand. “I'm Chris. Have you ever published in any of our journals?”

Hux published three PRL’s during his PhD and postdoc, plus several others in their various other journals. He doesn't particularly want to talk about it. “Yes,” he says.

“Great!” Chris says, with far too much enthusiasm. “Would you like a sticker? Or maybe a badge?”

“No,” Hux replies coldly.

“What about a pencil? Look, they change colour when you grip them.”

Chris grabs a dark green pencil from his table full of APS-branded tat. He grips it tight, then opens his hand, revealing yellow splotches where his hand had been. This is a gimmick that would amuse a child, not a professor.

“I'm afraid I've given up paper,” Hux says, then pretends to see someone he knows in the distance. “Excuse me.”

Hux makes a break for it, stopping behind a post out of sight of any irritating vendors. He pulls out his phone and mindlessly checks his email, then the news, until more people arrive. When it starts getting crowded, catering staff begin to bring out trays of pinchos. Hux takes that as a signal to blend back into the crowd. He grabs three pinchos, which barely fit in a napkin in his hand, and another beer in his other hand, and finds a seat on a padded bench.

After not seeing any sign of Ren and being almost done with his second beer, Hux considers giving up. He's about to down the rest of the beer when he sees Ren walk in, only he's not alone. A young woman with her hair in three buns is with him, as well as a man wearing a crudely stitched together leather jacket. How anyone can stand wearing a jacket in this weather is a mystery to Hux. He stops worrying about the jacket when he sees Ren smile, then say something that has the other two laughing. The three of them disappear in the crowd together, no doubt heading for the food and drinks.

Well. That settles it. Hux finishes his drink and leaves, vowing not to attempt such a pointless exercise again.

 

***

 

Hux’s alarm wakes him at 6:00 on the dot. He gets out of bed immediately and heads for the bathroom, where he left his Speedos out the day before so they could dry. He shucks off his boxers and puts the Speedos on in their place, then gets his shorts, slippers, and towel, and goes off to the pool again.

The swim is good. He focuses on each stroke and his breathing, leaving him absolutely zero opportunity to think about Ren or anything else. Eventually, he starts to tire and realises he completely lost track of how many laps he did. He stops and removes his goggles so he can check the time on the clock on the wall above the gym windows. It’s 6:30.

Before he can estimate how many more laps he should do, his eyes stop on none other than Ren. He’s running on a treadmill, wearing only black gym shorts and sneakers, with his hair in a messy bun tied up high behind a pair of wireless headphones. His mouth-wateringly muscular chest is covered in a sheen of sweat, pectorals jiggling every time his foot hits the treadmill. Ren grabs a piece black cloth hanging on one of the arm rails, probably his shirt, and wipes his face before discarding it again.

Only when Ren makes eye contact with him does Hux realise that he’s just standing in the pool, gawking. Hux yanks his goggles down and submerges completely below the surface, kicking off the wall and swimming under water until he’s desperate for air. He does five more laps this way before he climbs out of the pool, snatches his towel, and rushes out the door while still dripping wet.

While he showers back in his hotel room, Hux tries to convince himself that with his swimming cap on, Ren perhaps did not recognise him. It’s stupid. Ren saw him the day before, wearing exactly the same thing. With a sigh of frustration, Hux turns off the water and towels himself dry. He gets dressed, rubs pomade into his hair and combs it back, parting it neatly.

Like the day before, he skips the hotel breakfast buffet and picks up a coffee at a small hole-in-the-wall coffee shop down a pleasantly shaded side street, then drinks it while browsing through the news on his phone, trying to forget about the morning’s encounter with Ren. He sits there until 8:30, then heads for the conference center. Talks don’t start until nine o’clock, but arriving early will guarantee Hux a good seat away from everybody else.

The session is on atomic clocks, which Hux does not particularly care for. Certainly, the state of the art is remarkable, but the way forward is as clear and steady as the progress, with no surprises in store. Hux is after the new and groundbreaking. Outlandish ideas that turn out to be feasible, thanks to people like Ben Solo. Hux frowns. He has never seen Solo at a conference. His publications stopped with the Skywalker group. The likely scenario is that Solo went into industry after his PhD, like most people do. A waste of talent, in Hux’s opinion.

Hux knows it’s a bad habit, but he does it anyway; he pulls out his laptop and types “Ben Solo” into Google Scholar. As always, there is no photo -- just the default blue figure wearing a graduation cap. No new publications either. No LinkedIn or ResearchGate profiles. Not a trace. Skywalker’s group website had only out of date photos, while it was still up, and now there is just a blank landing page with a redirect to the Technical University of Chandrila’s physics department.

He sighs. This obsession with Ben Solo is both pathetic and hopeless, and Hux ought to give up on it.

When the session is over, Hux wanders out with the rest of the crowd and collects a couple of the delightful little sandwiches they’ve been serving at the morning breaks, then aimlessly wanders through poster displays from the day before.

The second session of the morning has more interesting talks, but Hux can’t bring himself to be enthusiastic about any of them. He sits slumped in his seat, letting his mind wander to the unexpected sight of bare-chested Ren earlier that morning. Ren is _built_. Not just his chest, but his stomach, his arms. Hux wonders what the muscles would feel like in his hands. He has always been thin himself, and none of the men he had flings with in his undergraduate days were as sculpted as Ren.

Hux jolts from his reverie when the audience applauds and people start getting up to leave. There is nothing scheduled for the afternoon, other than an optional walking tour of the city, which Hux had declined to sign up for. He considers slathering on sunscreen and wandering to the beach, but by the time he gets back to his hotel, all he can think about is that damn Ren and his chest and stomach and arms. He peels off his clothes as soon as he closes the door to his room, then throws himself on the bed. His cock is hard in his briefs, so he slides the briefs down to his thighs. Without preamble, he grabs his cock and starts jerking it. What would Ren’s sweat-covered nipples taste like? Was his dick in proportion to the rest of him? What if Hux looks up from swimming laps the next morning, and Ren is in the pool with him? Hux could climb him, wrap his legs around Ren’s waist, clenching his thighs around those hard muscles.

Fuck.

What is he _doing?_ Who on Earth hooks up at a _conference_ of all places? If he comes while thinking about Ren, he’ll never be able to look the man in the eye again. When he gets back home, he’ll make a Grindr profile like a regular person, get this nonsense out of his system, and move on with his life. Forget Ben Solo. Forget Kylo Ren.

He kicks his briefs off and goes straight to the shower, picks up the nozzle, and points it at his crotch. With the temperature set to cold, he fires it straight at his genitals.

_There._

With his arousal drowned into submission, Hux gets dressed again and goes down to the hotel bar with his laptop, where he sits down to do some work.

He ends up poring over paper after paper about decoherence, jotting down ideas for how to modify his theory. He opens up Matlab and tries a few back-of-the-envelope calculations, but what he really needs is access to his GPU cluster back at Arkanis. Logging in remotely is a real bother, so it will have to wait.

His stomach growls, prompting him to look at the time. It’s after seven. He’s late for the conference dinner. _Shit_.

Hux almost slams his laptop closed and rushes up to his room to change. He quickly puts on his nice pair of dress trousers, a white-on-white pinstripe shirt, his thinnest high quality socks, and his leather shoes, then rushes out the door. The dinner is at a museum twenty minutes walk away. He tries to avoid walking too fast out of fear of showing up sweaty.

By the time he arrives, almost everyone is seated, but thankfully, the food hasn’t been served yet. He picks up a glass of champagne offered by a hostess at the entranceway and then looks for a seat at one of the many round ten-seater tables. The dining room is a big old hall, with stone walls leading to a high ceiling with soft purple lighting adorning the space. A three piece band plays some light music.

Most of the tables are full. Hux quickly eliminates one table where someone has brought their young children. He spots another empty seat, but the rest of the table is full of people from his department with whom he would rather not spend the evening. A couple of other empty seats are at tables where no one is speaking English. That’s a possibility. He scans the room one final time and spots a familiar figure in the corner. It’s Ren, wearing what looks like another ragged black t-shirt. There is a free space next to him, his friends from the day before are not present, and Hux doesn’t know anyone else at the table.

Hux’s legs start moving before he consciously makes the decision. He tries to play it cool, but there is no way to pretend to casually walk past a table that’s on the completely far end of the room without looking desperate.

Ren smiles and waves when he sees him.

“Is this seat taken?” Hux asks.

“Nope,” says Ren.

Hux sits. The people sitting diametrically opposite them are engaged in an animated discussion in French, which Hux speaks a little of.

“I liked your talk,” says a young man sitting on the other side of him.

“Thank you,” Hux replies. They exchange a few polite words before Hux manages to extract himself from the conversation so he can turn to Ren.

He pushes any and all sexual thoughts of Ren out of his mind and brings up what he had been working on that afternoon. Their starters arrive -- small pieces of potato and green vegetables with pesto stacked on top of a thin bread-like base -- as well as wine. By the time the main dishes arrive, they are deep in conversation. Hux has had three glasses of wine, plus the champagne from earlier, and he feels positively jovial.

“So do you swim every morning?” Ren asks just as Hux stuffs a forkful of fish into his mouth.

Hux chews and swallows before answering. “When I can.”

“You seem pretty fast.”

Well. Hux’s times are reasonable. Nothing like Phasma, who swims with him twice a week when it fits with her triathlon training regimen. It’s enough for him that he swims faster than most of the regulars at his pool back home. “I do all right.”

Ren nods.

Hux wants to ask Ren if he works out a lot, even though he knows the answer is yes. He opens his mouth, then gives up immediately. It would be too obvious. Too inappropriate. Too desperate on Hux’s part. He doesn’t even know Ren’s orientation, and saying anything could completely alienate him.

No.

What does it matter if Hux alienates Ren? He’s just an arse from the States who Hux will probably never see again. He has no influence over Hux in any way whatsoever.

Before Hux can back out, he quickly gulps down the rest of the wine in his glass, then says, “You must work out a lot.”

“Yeah,” Ren says, raising an eyebrow. “I do.” He looks Hux in the eye for a long moment, then turns back to his food.

“What sorts of things do you do?” Hux asks, worried about letting the silence between them linger.

“Weights and cardio, mostly,” he says, taking a bite. “You’ve seen me run.”

Normally, Hux would be repulsed by someone speaking with a mouth full of food, but it somehow fits with the rest of Ren’s brutish appearance. “You must be able to lift a lot with these,” Hux says, brushing his fingertips over Ren’s bicep, sliding them under the sleeve of his T-shirt.

“Mmm,” Ren agrees. “I could probably lift you with one arm.”

“Can you?” Hux grins. At that moment, he realises that the alcohol has gotten to him, but he doesn’t care. “I suppose we’ll have to do the experiment to know for sure.”

“Unusual words, coming from a theorist,” Ren teases.

“Oh, shut up.” Hux laughs.

Ren laughs in response.

This is strange. This whole evening is strange and out of character. Hux’s head spins with mixed up thoughts of liking Ren, hating him, wanting to touch his bicep again. With his plate finished, Hux decides to take a time out to empty his bladder and perhaps try to figure out exactly what is going on here.

“Excuse me,” he says, and heads for the restroom.

Hux takes a deep breath as soon as he’s alone in the relative quiet of the men’s room, then jumps when he hears the bathroom door swing open and then slam shut behind him. He turns to investigate and finds himself face to face with Ren, who walks straight to the center of three urinals, breaking all known restroom protocols. Hux has no choice but to take the one next to him.

Urinal etiquette mandates that one keeps their eyes on their own business. Seeing as Ren already broke the rules, Hux takes a sneak peak.

His jaw nearly drops.

Ren is _big_. He must be five inches soft, judging by how much of his cock is sticking out of his jeans.

“It’s rude to stare,” Ren says just as he finishes.

Hux quickly looks back to his own substantially smaller but perfectly proportioned cock. He doesn’t know how to save face, so he goes with a retort. “It rather draws the eye.” He pauses to shake off, then mumbles, “Do you work _that_ out as well?” as he tucks himself back in and zips up his trousers.

Ren doesn’t say anything. Hux wonders if he's offended while they both wash and dry their hands in silence. He's about to apologise as Ren heads for the door with Hux at his heels, but without warning, Ren stops just before the door and spins around to face Hux. Before Hux can stop himself from bumping into Ren, Ren grabs him, one hand around his waist and the other at the back of his neck. Hux's heart races as Ren lunges in, crashing their lips together.

As soon as Hux gets over the initial surprise, he relaxes into it, kissing Ren back and slipping his tongue into Ren’s mouth.

Both of them jolt when a loud bang interrupts them.

“Fuck,” Ren swears.

Someone on the other side of the door is attempting to push it open, but Ren is in the way. They quickly separate and Ren lets the person coming in through.

“Sorry!” the newcomer says as he walks past.

Hux and Ren file out immediately. Back in the main hall, Hux isn’t sure if he imagined kissing Ren or if the moment was truly real. They sit back down at their table. Hux needs to say something, _anything_ , to break the awkward silence between them.

“So what’s the Palpatine Institute like? I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s new,” Ren says, which explains why Hux doesn’t know it. “Privately funded. Good facilities.”

“How long have you been there?” Hux asks. It’s standard academic small talk. Easy to default to in a panic.

“A few years. Finished my PhD there, now doing a post-doc. You?”

“PhD at Imperial University, then I got a fellowship at Arkanis, and now I’m a professor.”

“Tell me about Arkanis,” Ren says.

Hux can’t figure out if he’s genuinely interested, but he responds nonetheless. “It’s in the rainiest part of the country. The university is excellent, but there isn’t much to the city. I grew up there, actually.”

Their desserts arrive, and Hux ends up telling Ren almost his entire life story while eating chocolate cake. He had barely known his birth mother, and his stepmother had been far more interested in her own children than in Hux. He speaks to his father only when strictly necessary. Despite his father being dean of sciences at Arkanis, Hux had been made professor on his own merits, and he complained to Ren at length that his father had been far more of a hindrance than a help.

All the loud talking suddenly quietens down to a murmur. One of the conference organisers is standing on the small stage where the musicians are gathered.

“Fuck,” Ren mutters. “They’re probably gonna talk forever. Wanna get out of here?”

“Yes,” Hux says. “Yes, definitely.”

Hux pours and quickly drinks an entire glass of water, then stands. Ren doesn’t even bother to be inconspicuous, and walks straight through the middle of the dining area. Hux follows him out. Quite a few other delegates clearly have the same idea, and hurriedly leave before they get stuck listening to some long speech.

Outside the museum, it’s dark and the temperature is warm, but not nearly as stifling as it had been during the day. They start absent-mindedly walking in the direction of their hotel. Hux feels like he should say something about what happened in the bathroom, now that they’re alone. Ask Ren what he meant by it. The words don’t come.

They walk the entire way back to the hotel without saying a thing to one another until they get to the front steps and Ren stops.

“So I’ve got some more stuff I can show you on my laptop,” Ren says, running his fingers through his hair. “Wondered if you want to come to my room.”

Hux parses the words in his mind carefully. He has seen this scene countless times in sappy romantic comedies and whatnot, but no one has ever tried it on him. In all likelihood, he is being propositioned for sex. Hux almost laughs out loud. Never in his life has he heard of anyone hooking up at a physics conference. The closest incident he is aware of is one from a summer school he attended in Italy as a PhD student, during which a petit Russian student took part in a beach photo shoot with a guy who followed her around like a puppy for the duration of the school. Whether there had been anything more to it, Hux doesn’t know.

Now the very man who made Hux’s blood boil earlier in the week is offering something. Hux should say no. This is a work trip, not some binge-drinking, sex-fueled holiday. However, Hux has no professional ties to Ren. They live in different countries, have no official collaborations, and there is an extremely high probability that he will never see Ren again. It could be a true no-strings-attached hook-up, and Hux is so very curious about what Ren’s muscular body feels like under his clothes.

“Sure,” Hux replies, but he prepares himself for any eventuality. Ren could genuinely want to discuss physics again, so Hux must maintain an air of professionalism, regardless of what happened in the restroom.

Outside of the door to Ren’s room, Hux’s pulse starts shooting up while Ren digs through his wallet for his keycard. Ren sticks it in the slot, the lock beeps, and they are in. Hux half expects Ren to kiss him again as soon as they walk through the door, but the moment they are in, Hux just gawks at the room.

“You have a whole apartment?” Hux just has a room with a double bed, bathroom, television mounted on the wall, and not even a kettle. Ren has a sofa and a coffee table, and even a small kitchenette. Through an ajar door, he can see a bedroom, and next to it, a door that opens to a large bathroom.

Ren shrugs. “This is what they booked for me.”

Perhaps there is something to private funding. Arkanis kicks up a fuss if someone purchases so much as a first class train ticket for university travel. Mustn’t squander taxpayer money, and all that.

“So what is it you wanted to show me?” Hux asks, cutting to the chase.

He sees Ren’s adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “It’s, uh. In the bedroom.”

“Is it, now?” Hux raises an eyebrow. “Your laptop is there on the coffee table.”

“Shut up,” Ren says and immediately launches forward into a messy kiss.

Hux lets Ren push him backwards until he hits the wall. Lets Ren manhandle him towards the bedroom, all the while gripping him tightly by waist. Lets Ren mouth down his neck. By the time they make it to the bedroom, Hux is rock hard in his trousers. Ren’s hands wander down and Hux sucks in a breath when one of Ren’s big hands cups his crotch. It’s been so, so long since he’s had someone like this. Ren’s hands feel good. Ren smells surprisingly good. A lot of things about Ren are good.

“You can touch me too,” Ren growls against Hux’s neck.

Yes, he should reciprocate. He goes straight for Ren’s chest. Ren’s pectorals are big and firm. He slides his hands downwards, feeling bump after bump of each abdominal muscle until his fingers find Ren’s jeans.

“I know what you want,” Ren says, almost teasing. He pulls back from Hux and whips his shirt off, tossing it to the floor.

Oh, he looks grand. The up-close view is far better than what Hux saw from the pool. Hux brings his lips to the dip just above Ren’s collarbone, then ghosts them in towards the base of Ren’s neck. He kisses him there, slowly and carefully, tasting the salt on his skin. He wants to feel more, to see more, so he sinks down, mouthing every inch of Ren’s chest as he goes. He sucks, he licks, he swirls his tongue around Ren’s pert nipples.

They end up on the bed, with Ren sitting and Hux kneeling between Ren’s knees. He wants to see that big cock of Ren’s, so he yanks open the top button of Ren’s jeans. Ren is wearing tight black boxer-briefs underneath. Hux can see the outline of Ren’s cock, curving to one side. It has to be eight inches long. Hux palms it gently before peeling back the boxer-briefs.

He sucks in a quiet breath. Ren’s dick is truly an exquisite specimen. Uncut, thick, and hard. Dark hair surrounding the base. Hux licks his lips and dives in for a taste. Ren gasps above him, and Hux takes it as a good sign. He licks from base to tip, over and over, before tonguing the frenulum and engulfing the entire head into his mouth. He sucks gently, licking at the tip with each suck.

“Fuck,” Ren says between heavy breaths. “I thought you’d be too much of an asshole to do this.”

Hux lets out a single cock-muffled laugh. He’s not doing this for Ren’s benefit alone.

“C’mere. I wanna--” Ren grasps at Hux’s clothes, pulling him up. “We can both--”

Ren can’t seem to finish his sentence, but Hux figures out what Ren is getting at. It would work better on the bed, so Hux quickly unties his leather dress shoes and pulls them off. While Ren fusses with his boots, Hux crawls onto the bed. After Ren’s boots are off, he quickly divests himself of his jeans, his socks, and lastly, his underwear.

He smirks at Hux. “I saw you staring from the pool.”

“It’s not my fault if you choose to parade around half naked,” Hux scoffs as Ren starts stalking towards him on his hands and knees, his obscene dick swings between his legs.

“You watched me like you were hungry. Only women look at me like that, normally.”

“Oh, sod off,” Hux retorts. “I hadn’t eaten breakfast yet.”

Ren has Hux trapped now, muscular arms and thighs on either side of Hux’s body, like bars of a cage. Hux wants to be trapped. “And what’s your excuse now?” Ren grins.

“Not all of us are built like that,” Hux says, looking down Ren’s body.

“You looked so fucking cute in your little red swimsuit.”

Hux swallows at the compliment. Ren drops down, placing a gentle kiss on Hux’s lips.

“Looks nice when it’s wet on your tiny ass.” Ren reaches down and grabs one of Hux’s arse cheeks, squeezing it firmly. He ruts against Hux a couple of times, then flops over to the side and immediately starts tugging at Hux’s clothing.

“Careful!” Hux warns.

Ren slows down straight away and carefully undoes Hux’s shirt buttons, then unbuckles his belt. As soon as he unzips Hux’s fly, Ren tugs both his trousers and his briefs down.

“You’re cute here, too. Hair all red.”

Hux wants to get mad, but he can’t, because Ren instantly goes down on him, swallowing his entire cock whole. He cries out, completely involuntarily, moaning and whining while Ren bobs up and down on his cock. Ren’s mouth is wet and warm and phenomenal. Hux makes a mewling sound in protest when Ren pulls back.

“Sixty-nine?” Ren asks. His lips are spit-slicked.

Hux nods vigorously. Anything to get Ren’s mouth back on his cock. Ren shuffles around and Hux makes a grab for his cock as soon Ren settles. He wraps his fingers around the base of it and descends on the head with his mouth; there’s not a high chance in hell that he’ll get anywhere near deepthroating. As soon as Ren is back on Hux’s cock, another moan is forced out of him. He sucks Ren more vigorously and Ren responds in kind. Hux wants to come like this, but he needs more, so he rolls on top of Ren and thrusts into that oh so accessible throat. It’s been such a long, long time since he’s had his cock in someone’s mouth. Hux needs it. He works his hips, works to get Ren’s cock deeper into his mouth at the same time, until Ren interrupts by pushing Hux’s hips away.

“Whoa, there,” Ren says. His voice sounds hoarse.

“What’s wrong?” Hux asks.

“If you’re gonna throatfuck me, you might as well have the real thing.”

“How do you mean?”

Ren snorts and pushes Hux off of him, then saunters over to the bathroom. Hux watches his sculpted rear end as he leaves the room, then watches him walk back with his hard dick swinging to and fro with each step.

A condom and two sachets of lubricant land on the bed beside Hux.

“You’re offering?” Hux asks.

“Mmm.” Ren gets on the bed on his hands and knees and crawls to the middle, slinking along like a big, wild cat.

If that’s how it’s going to be, Hux isn’t going to say no. He starts to quickly undress, divesting himself of his shirt and trousers, then moves behind Ren.

“Don’t think it’ll work the other way around if you’re so out of practice.”

Hux stops part way through pulling off his socks. “Excuse me?”

Ren looks over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow at Hux. “C’mon, Hux, when’s the last time you let someone fuck you? Or fucked someone else?”

 _How dare he!_ Hux wrinkles his nose and smacks Ren straight across his arse cheeks. Ren just laughs, so Hux smacks him harder.

“Oh yeah,” Ren says, sticking his rear out obscenely. “Spank me, Professor Hux.”

That phrase combined with Hux’s official title short circuits something in Hux’s brain. He tears off what remains of his clothes and braces one hand against Ren’s lower back, then spanks him in ernest. One smack after another on Ren’s arse while Ren makes noises to egg him on.

“You’re a brat, Ren.”

“Glad you’re here to teach me a lesson.”

Hux smacks him particularly hard after that one, earning him an “oof” from Ren.

“Is this what you like to do?” Hux challenges between smacks. “Publicly harass people at conferences, then parade around half naked until they capitulate?”

Ren just groans. Hux decides that Ren’s arse is pink enough, so he tears open a lubricant sachet and coats his fingers. He slides them down Ren’s crack until his fingertips glide across Ren’s hole. If Ren is so confident about his bottoming abilities, then two fingers should be no problem for him.

“Fuck. _Hux_.” Ren draws out his name, practically moaning it while Hux breaches him.

Hux smacks his arse again with his free hand. “That’s _Professor_ Hux to _you_ , a lowly post-doc.”

He pumps his fingers in and out of Ren slowly. Ren isn’t super tight, but he’s by no means loose, so Hux works him for a few minutes before pushing in a third finger. Hux thrusts his fingers in and out at a steady rhythm, and soon Ren starts to push back to meet Hux’s thrusts. This is a far cry from Hux’s previous quick dalliances in the dark. Ren is an illicit indulgence to be savoured.

“It’s-- it’s enough,” Ren gasps.

“Yeah?”

Ren nods. Hux curls his fingers down onto Ren’s prostate once, just to see his body jolt, then withdraws. He grabs the condom and removes it from its pack, then rolls it onto his straining cock. The additional barrier will hopefully be sufficient to stop Hux from orgasming as soon as he’s in; he can’t bear the thought of Ren mocking him for coming too quickly. He grabs the sachet of lubricant next and squeezes out what’s left and spreads it over his cock.

As he lines himself up, Hux thinks that if he went back in time to the first day of the conference and told himself he’d be fucking the irritating man from his talk, he would never in a million years believe it. Yet, here they are. Hux pushes in, moaning as he goes. Ren doesn’t complain, so Hux starts pumping into him straight away. Even with the condom, Hux knows he won’t last, so he reaches down to Ren’s cock.

Ren bats his hand away. “Don’t,” he hisses. “I’ll come. Don’t.”

Hux bites his lip and grabs Ren by the hips. He does his best to slow down, but it doesn’t help. Ren’s hole gripping his cock is too exquisite to resist, so Hux fucks him eagerly until he’s right at the precipice and gets a sudden overwhelming desire to see Ren coat that delicious stomach of his with jizz.

He pulls out. “Roll over.”

Ren flops over, then rolls onto his back. His eyes are glazed over and his hair is plastered over his face. Hux reaches up to brush the hair out of the way, then settles between Ren’s spread legs and guides himself in.

Hux intends to remain kneeling, to keep a comfortable distance between himself and Ren, but that plan turns to tatters when Ren yanks him down and wraps his big arms around him. It’s good, being pressed against Ren’s welcoming chest like this, but Hux still wants to fuck, so he thrusts and thrusts until he’s again dangerously close to coming. With his face buried against Ren’s neck, Hux quickly reaches down to grip Ren’s cock so he can finish him off. At the same time, Ren turns his head and nudges Hux until he looks up to see raw want in Ren’s eyes. Ren closes the distance between them and presses their lips together. He slides his tongue into Hux’s mouth, and Hux starts to come as soon as Ren’s slippery tongue makes contact with his own. They lick at each other throughout Hux’s orgasm, and just as Hux finishes coming, Ren spills in his hand.

They’re both panting when it’s over. Ren lets Hux go, and he pulls out without a word and quickly pads to the bathroom, where he removes the condom and chucks it into the rubbish, then washes his hands. As he walks back to Ren’s bedroom, he wonders if he should just quickly dress and leave. The thought evaporates as soon as he sees a thoroughly wrecked Ren lying on his back, with one leg outstretched and the other with one knee up. His eyelids are half-closed as he looks to Hux and beckons him with a flick of his fingers.

Hux climbs back on the bed and lays down alongside Ren, who throws a leg and an arm around him and pulls him in.

It’s been ten years since Hux had sex with anyone, and even longer since anyone hugged him. The awkward hug Hux received from Rae Sloane when he passed his thesis defense does not count. He falls into Ren’s embrace willingly.

They say nothing to each other. Hux closes his eyes and listens to the sounds of people carrying on outside on the street. He listens to Ren breathe, feeling Ren’s breath against his hair. After a few minutes, the rhythm of Ren’s breathing shifts and his body relaxes as he drifts off. Hux thinks that maybe, just maybe, it’s okay to close his eyes for a little while and enjoy the weight of Ren’s limbs on him and the strange feeling of closeness that’s creeping into him.

 

***

 

Hux wakes up disoriented. He’s not at home, and he’s not in his hotel room, but he’s in a hotel room. His heart skips a beat when he realises that he has no idea what time it is at all other than that it’s morning, and also that his arm is trapped under Kylo Ren’s neck, who is curled up stark naked on his side facing away from Hux. As soon as he moves to extract his arm, Ren mumbles something sleepily and then rolls over to face Hux. His hair is a mess, but Hux’s probably is as well.

“We’re not late,” Ren says.

“Oh. Good.”

“Wanna go to the breakfast buffet?”

Perhaps this wouldn’t be as awkward as Hux had anticipated. They may as well go to breakfast. Hux could use something heavy after last night’s drinking.

“All right. But first, I’m going to use your shower,” Hux declares. Ren makes no attempt to stop him from getting out of bed. Hux grabs his clothes from the night before and takes them into the bathroom with him. Ren had said they weren’t late, but Hux makes sure to shower quickly anyway. He dries off with a towel that looks unused and runs his fingers through his wet hair to tidy it up as best as he can. When he emerges from the bathroom, he’s fully dressed. “Your turn.”

Ren is on the bed, still completely naked, looking at his phone. When he looks up at Hux, he frowns at Hux’s dressed state. What does he expect? That Hux will go to breakfast with him in the nude?

While Ren goes to shower, Hux checks his phone, only to find that the battery is completely dead. Ren emerges after a few minutes with a towel around his waist. Hux watches him dress in the same black jeans he’d been wearing all week, but with a different T-shirt.

They head down to the hotel bar, which now contains a breakfast spread. Hux sees other conference delegates there. One or two give him strange looks, but he can’t for the life of him figure out why until he realises that Ren is standing overly close to him. It must be Ren that they are looking at, not Hux.

Hux loads his plate with a selection of salami, bread, and Spanish omelette, as well as some cut up melon. He makes himself a coffee using the instant coffee machine, then he and Ren find an empty table. Somehow, the conversation isn’t awkward. They are back to discussing physics until they realise that they are going to be late if they don’t hurry up.

It’s one of the first times that Hux sits through a series of talks without his laptop in front of him. He focuses on the talks in an effort to avoid thinking about Ren sitting next to him. In the coffee break, Ren sticks by him. While Hux is halfway through biting into a tiny smoked salmon sandwich, the young man and woman that he saw with Ren the other day join them.

Ren introduces them. “Rey. Finn. This is Hux. Hux, that’s Rey and Finn.”

Their name tags both indicate they are from Ninka University, which is in the same city as the Technical University of Chandrila. Hux wonders if either of them might have come across Ben Solo. He doubts it; they look too young to have overlapped with him.

“Is he trying to recruit you for something?” Rey asks Hux.

“Pardon me?”

Ren sighs and rolls his eyes. “I tried to recruit Rey on behalf of my boss. It backfired.”

“You challenged me to a duel.”

“Can we not talk about this now?”

Hux wants to ask about this dueling incident, but he’s more concerned with another matter. “Who are you two working with?”

“Amilyn Holdo,” Finn says.

“Cavity optomechanics?” Hux asks.

They both nod. Hux wants to ask about Skywalker or Solo, but the end of the coffee break is announced, and everyone heads back to the auditorium. Ren disappears to use the bathroom and Rey and Finn go off on their own, so Hux sits by himself again. For the first time ever, he wishes for company.

In an effort to forget his newfound loneliness, he forces himself to pay close attention to the talks. He doesn’t have the energy to pick them apart like he normally does, so he sits back and listens passively until the session breaks for lunch. Ren is still nowhere to be found, so Hux goes off on his own.

After lunch, Hux looks for Ren again during the afternoon poster session, but there is no sign of him then, or anywhere else for the rest of the day. By the evening, Hux considers knocking on Ren’s door to see what he’s up to, but decides against it. They had a one night stand. Nothing more. Hux should leave it at that.

The next morning, Hux has an early flight home, so he skips the pool. By the time he’s in an airport taxi, Ren would only just be arriving at the gym.

It was just a one-night stand.

No point in dwelling over it.

 

***

 

It’s eleven in the morning, and Hux confidently marches through the ground floor corridor of Arkanis University’s physics department with his customary mug of tarine tea in hand. They are interviewing a number of candidates for a permanent post, which involves each one giving a forty-five minute talk. Hux isn’t on the search committee, but he’s obligated to attend the talks and can have potential sway in the final hiring decision.

Being in the midst of writing an imminently-due grant application, Hux has been ignoring non-essential emails. He has absolutely no idea who had been shortlisted for the position.

Hux sits in his usual spot at the left side of the lecture room and opens his laptop up so he can either take notes or work on the grant application, depending on the quality of the talk. Another group of people enter the lecture room, and trailing them is none other than Kylo Ren.

This cannot possibly be happening. _Ren_ was shortlisted? The man has no publications from the time during his PhD whatsoever and a few average ones from the last couple of years. Worse than that, Ren has arrived well-dressed, wearing a very smart black suit. Hux swallows hard. This feels like punishment for spending the last two years masturbating himself to sleep while thinking about Ren.

Ren smiles when he sees Hux and gives him a little wave. Hux is too mortified to reply in kind and is still in shock as Ren starts his talk.

“Hi, I’m Kylo Ren,” he says. “Thanks for having me here.”

Someone did this to spite Hux. It’s the only logical explanation. Hux wonders if it was Canady.

“In this talk, I’ll tell you about the work I’ve done during my PhD and postdoc,” Ren continues. “I started my PhD in Luke Skywalker’s group at Chandrila.”

Hux jolts up in his seat.

“As some of you know, I published under another name back then.”

Hux’s jaw drops. It can’t be. _It can’t_.

Ren goes to the next slide, and there it is: the list of publications that Hux knows so well. “Ben Solo” is bolded in every one.

Ren glances towards Hux’s side of the room. Their eyes meet. Hux can’t force his jaw to come back up.

“But now,” he says, pausing for a sheepish smile in Hux’s direction, “I’m known as Kylo Ren.”

**Author's Note:**

> Glossary:
> 
> Poster session: People display A0 size posters of their research work and stand in front of them while other people come around and talk to them about it. Snacks or drinks are usually served at the same time. If you're lucky, beer and wine.  
> PRL: _Physical Review Letters_ , one of the most prestigious physics journals.  
>  _Nature_ : Top tier science journal for all fields of science.  
> GPU: Graphical Processing Unit. i.e., a graphics card. People use them to run simulations now because a lot of the kinds of calculations that are done in physics are similar to what's needed for doing computer graphics.  
> Post-doc: Someone who has completed their PhD and is working as a researcher for an established lecturer/professor. It's the early career stage that people spend a few years in before looking for tenure track type academic positions or leaving academia.  
> Professor: In this fic, "professor" refers to the European definition. Professors are high-ranking permanent positions. In US universities, the term "professor" has a more broad definition.  
> Matlab: A programming environment geared towards doing math. It's commonly used by mathematicians, physicists, and engineers.
> 
> Several anecdotes in this fic are based on real life events.
> 
> The physics is hand-wavey, but vaguely plausible. I'm not a theorist, nor do I work in quantum computing, but I work in an adjacent field.
> 
> [Hux's speedos](http://www.internationaljock.com/v3/prld.xlg?partno=28644&width=1400&code=7c9d61c0).
> 
> Follow me on [tumblr](https://agent-nemesis.tumblr.com/)!


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